[Image ID: A digital drawing of two Jaspers from Lucids. He is a white man with brown hair and eyes, and a scar that resembles a star across his nose. The jasper on the right is shown sitting, arms resting on his legs, and listening to music with a neutral expression. He is wearing a white t-shirt, dark blue pants with patches and embroidered stars on them, and some headphones. The headphones are teal with a purple star on the side, and in his pocket are 2 pens. Next to him, on the right, is an asexual and mlm pride flag. The jasper on the left is standing with his hand is his pocket, and his eyes closed. He is wearing the same clothes as the other Jasper, but with his purple and teal jacket on, a gold pendant, and without the headphones. Across him is text reading; “Everyone, shhhhhh He’s thinking about lumbersweats and the sweet meat chronicles.” /.End ID]
WOOOOOOO JASPER!!! MY MAN!!! MY D U D E !!! The rendering for this one took so longggg- just take a moment to appreciate the mediocre folds in his t-shirt plz- And to that one person who commented on my head-cannons post, here are my head cannons, but specifically about Jasper!! :]]]]
He is ace and mlm in my head :) but it tends to shift depending on what AU he’s in tbh-
He reads lumbersweats fanfiction. That’s just how it is, I don’t make the rules - He’s also neurodivergent, but I haven’t felt like labelling him with anything specific so far..
He has social anxiety, but forgets about it constantly until he’s actually being social.
And that’s all that comes to mind for now! There’s probably more, but I’m blanking on that-
ANYWAY! Enjoy the art of our favorite space guy 🚀🛸✨ !!
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The I in the FBI is for Idiots
Stucky X-Files AU, 0.6k, Teen
This little ficlet is a present for my beloved T @otp-holic, 'cause we can't stop talking about these Special Idiots in Love™ 👽💓👽✨🛸
Happy birthday, sweetheart! 💖💖💖 I've said it before and I will keep saying it over and over again; you're amazing, your kindness and talent know no bounds, this fandom is so lucky to have you, and meeting you through our shared love for our boys has made my life so much better. 🥰💕
Special agent James Barnes watches his partner nudge aside a stack of manila folders, nearly knocking over the cold dregs of his coffee.
(Rogers drinks it black, with three or four sugars. It’s completely disgusting, yet somehow endearing.)
James closes the file he’s holding, having read the same sentence approximately twenty times in the past five minutes. Across the room Rogers leans over his desk, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and letting out a soft and quiet fuck.
James takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his face. ”Look, I don’t think we’re getting anywhere here, and you need to sleep. We can go over it tomorrow.”
Rogers mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he pushes up from his chair and turns to rummage through the disorderly filing cabinet.
”Anyway, I need to get going, I’ve got…” James trails off, glancing at the I Want to Believe poster on the wall.
Rogers swivels around to toss a couple of folders onto his already overflowing desk, but doesn’t look at him.
”…a date,” James finishes, immediately wishing he could swallow the words back down.
”Yeah? That’s nice. Have fun.”
James thinks it comes out a bit clipped, that he sees the tiniest change in Roger’s posture, in the set of his shoulders, but he tells himself he’s imagining things.
Get a grip, and get out of here. He doesn’t care.
James clears his throat. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”
Rogers doesn’t say anything more, and James walks out of their tiny basement office, his stupid heart in his throat.
The date isn’t by far the worst James has ever been on, but it’s also the last thing he wants to be doing right now, and he’s growing more restless by the minute, fidgeting with his napkin.
He’s sipping his second glass of wine when an ice truck rolls past, and something in the back of his mind clicks into place.
The cold.
The man sitting across the table keeps talking about his sister’s kids, which really is quite of adorable, but James is barely paying attention to what he’s actually saying, already lost in the images flashing in front of his eyes; a crime scene photo showing a white van parked near one of the victim’s houses, the empty ice trays in the kitchens of the crime scenes.
Whoever is doing this likes the cold, maybe even needs it.
It can wait, it’s a long shot, he tells himself. You’re just looking for a reason to talk to him.
James tries, he really does, but by the time they’ve finished the bottle his resolve simply breaks. He excuses himself to the bathroom, only to sneak outside and punch out a text before he can reason himself out of it.
I think I figured out something about the case. Call me when you can.
He draws in a deep lungful of the crisp November air and leans his head back against the wall. He’s barely slid the phone into his pocket before it vibrates, sending a jolt through his system. James answers it, his hands suddenly so sweaty he’s in serious danger of dropping the whole thing.
“Talk to me,” Rogers says, his voice soft and intense in a way James feels down to his bones.
(That, however, is nothing compared to how he feels later on, leaning over the same desk, their heads bent close together, Roger’s eyes wide and bright with excitement.
This is it, Barnes. You’re amazing, he says, and James bites into the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood.)
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Big emotions for my 10 year old self! Hahah
[ Talles: We work drawing, you know?
Child Talles: That's so COOL!!
T: And we still love animals and cartoons!
Child T: YEAH! It doesn't surprise me.
T: You're not afraid of spiders anymore
Child T: OMG!! O: ]
~ Bônus ~ 🛸
[ Child Talles: Do you want to hunt UFOs with me?
Talles: FOR SURE!! ]
My contribution to a cute Twitter thread where artists are drawing themselves talking to their child selves :'3
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